There are no obnoxious teenagers in "Wolf Creek," nor are there ghosts, possessed children, haunted Web sites or supernaturally produced videotapes. There isn't even an Asian horror film upon which to base the screenplay.

Instead, there is desolation, real terror and one hell of a villain in rural Australia in Greg McLean's energetically gritty bit of low-budget showmanship, which is basically "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre" or even "Open Water" in the Outback.

The concept is simple -- two girls and guy in their 20s are stranded while on their way to a camping site and fall into the hands of a serial killer. Just these four, locked in mortal combat, with countless miles of desolation separating them from the nearest human beings.

This film struck a chord in Australia, where it ruled the box office for weeks because it is based on a notorious and controversial true story. It's also a darned good -- if stomach-churning -- movie, sharply filmed (in high-definition video) and edited.

What's effective about the film is not what happens but how it goes down. McLean takes care to flesh out (no pun intended) the characters so that you get to know them well, and thus, when it comes time for it, you feel every slice.

But we are getting ahead of ourselves.

Ben (Nathan Phillips) is a young Australian surfer with a cheap station wagon. He and two British tourists -- Liz (Cassandra McGrath) and Kristy (Kestie Morassi) -- take a road trip to Wolf Creek, where a huge meteor crater lends an added loneliness to the desolation.

The three have car trouble (natch) and are happened upon by a redneck truck driver, Mick (John Jarratt), whose long and distinguished career in Australian film and television includes Peter Weir's "Picnic at Hanging Rock").

Mick offers to fix the car, but he has to tow them back to his small town to make the repairs. He offers to do it for free. Desperate and broke, the three travelers agree.

Bad mistake.

Mick doesn't live in a small town; he lives in an encampment that seems hundreds of miles from the nearest town. He does have tools. He just doesn't use them to fix cars.

Jarratt is mercilessly entertaining in the type of role that normally is beaten into cliche. No wonder Quentin Tarantino, ever the international genre plunderer, has declared Jarratt his favorite Australian actor and has cast him in his next project, "Grind House."

This is a grim and bloody movie, there's no doubt about it. But McLean also directs his actors in a convincingly natural style and gives us landscapes worthy of "Mad Max" or "Walkabout"; he has a terrific eye for composition.